


right when it's good (time it messes it up)

by hlundqvists



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, New York Rangers, found families being broken up is not fun and i am sad so i put it into a fic, writing post-trade fics is the worst and i'm sorry i did this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 17:30:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12512520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hlundqvists/pseuds/hlundqvists
Summary: He knows that when Derek comes back to the table, smile looking forced and hard at the edges, that the first words out of his mouth will be, “I got traded.”What he doesn’t know, nor does he expect, are the words that follow.“Antti, too. They traded us together.”or, the post trade fic i didn't intend to write but here we are.





	right when it's good (time it messes it up)

**Author's Note:**

> i'm back (!!!!!) with a fic for erin that she didn't even ask me for yet here it is because she loves steps more than anyone i know and loves these two minnesota boys in love so i decided to write her this tragic thing. it's all for her.
> 
> i thought today would be the appropriate day to post this because i'm the worst or something.
> 
> it's been a long time since i've been able to finish and post a fic. life has been incredibly unfun and tough and writing hasn't been easy. i'm impressed alone with the fact i even got this thing done. i hope you all like it. especially erin.
> 
> title is taken from 'roses and violets' by alexander jean.
> 
> thank you to rach and lauren for looking this over and for coming up with "marc-y marc" for me. love you both.

It’s a call they didn’t want to acknowledge would happen. It’s a call that, when it comes, the ringing of the phone sounds more like the shattering of their world.

Derek excuses himself from the table to go take the call in their bedroom, leaving Ryan to sit and stare at their breakfast. The eggs look particularly nauseating now; even moreso as Derek’s voice can be heard quietly spilling out from under the closed bedroom door to hit Ryan in the chest.

Ryan can hear the, “ _I understand_ ”, and “ _Thank you_ ”, and “ _Yeah. It’s been a pleasure to work with you, too_ ”, and he knows what he’s going to be told when Derek comes out of the room. He knows that everything is different now.

He knows that when Derek comes back to the table, smile looking forced and hard at the edges, that the first words out of his mouth will be, “I got traded.”

What he doesn’t know, nor does he expect, are the words that follow.

“Antti, too. They traded us together.”

That makes the world stop spinning for a moment as Ryan tries to rearrange his world to match the new reality of not wearing the same sweater as Derek _and_ Antti _and_ G.

None of it feels right. It makes his stomach twist up, makes his heart clench in a painfully tight way.

It takes a few moments to gather himself enough to hoarsely ask, “Where?”

Derek chews his lip, reaches over to cover Ryan’s hand with his.

“Arizona.”

The answer feels like a pin dropping to the floor. It shouldn’t sound so heavy and profound but it does.

“Oh.”

Derek doesn’t reply, and that makes everything feel even more wrong. It’s difficult to get Derek to shut up on a bad day, impossible to do so on a good day. He’s always bursting with energy, wanting to share his thoughts and love with everyone. The lingering quiet from him feels… _wrong_. It feels bad and so wrong and Ryan feels a stirring of resentment towards everyone who has put Derek in this position of silence.

“We’ll be okay,” Derek finally says. It startles Ryan, pulls him from his own frantic thoughts of what the future holds now. “We’ll be okay, because we love each other.”

Derek’s voice turns a bit uncertain toward the end, his fingers curling against Ryan’s in a tight grip as he asks, “Right?”

Ryan has to nod. He can’t hesitate here, he knows that. He nods and pushes their plates aside so he can rest his elbows on the table and cup Derek’s face in his hands.

“I love you. I _love_ you. We’ll be okay.”

Derek swallows, then tries for a smile that looks less forced and is more honest; it’s a vulnerable smile, uncertainty etched into each part of it.

“I love you, too, _Cap_.”

Ryan’s heart shatters a bit in his chest at the fragile way Derek says that final word.

The sudden press of Derek’s lips to his feels less like reassurance and more like a desperate grasp at _staying_.

It feels that way as Derek leads him to the bedroom and curls around him. It feels like a goodbye hidden beneath layers of sweet pleas for _more_. Derek whines and moans when Ryan’s hand wraps around his cock, but his whispers of _please, more_ sound less like a request for a firmer touch and more like a request for more time to be here, more time to stay in this bed, more time to wear that familiar blue on the ice.

Ryan stretches Derek with his fingers, careful as ever but there’s a heightened sense of desperation in Derek now that Ryan has never seen or heard before; the pleas for _more, now, please_ are full with that aching desire for more time together. It cuts through Ryan like a knife, makes his fingers tremble a bit. He’s messy with the lube, pouring a little too much in his haste to give Derek what he’s so desperately asking for. When he presses his cock in and Derek starts to _cry_ , Ryan knows this is the end of something and the start of something else. He doesn’t want to think on that. He wants to be fully in this moment now with Derek. He wants to get lost in Derek’s warmth, the way Derek opens up so easily to take his cock, how it feels so much like home to be inside him and always does. He kisses Derek’s cheeks, tastes the wet saltiness on his skin. He kisses Derek’s lips to swallow up those cries as he thrusts deep and slow, lighting Derek up with every move.

Derek’s legs hook around Ryan’s waist, pull him closer and deeper; his arms go around Ryan’s shoulders, hands burying tight in Ryan’s hair. They cling to each other, gasping and panting, and when Derek pleads, _Don’t let me go_ , Ryan breaks with a sob and digs his hands against Derek’s hips, leaving bruises as he thrusts harder.

Derek comes first, crying Ryan’s name and holding him tight, clenching so sweetly around his cock. It sends Ryan over the edge; he buries himself as deep as he can, fills Derek with his come. He wants to stay there forever, never wanting this moment to end.

They breathe together, catching their breath. Neither wants to voice the concerns, the _worry_ , that had fueled their sex.

Finally, Derek says it. He’s always the one to say anything first. Ryan is usually grateful for that.

“Things won’t be the same, will they?”

Derek asks the question so quietly that Ryan almost doesn’t hear it. Derek sounds scared. _Lost_. Even with Ryan on top of him, in him; Ryan’s come inside him and Ryan’s love pressing down into his body. Ryan hates that that fear is there in Derek’s voice.

He kisses Derek slowly, carefully, pouring all his love into it. He answers the question with his lips still touching Derek’s, his body still blanketing Derek’s, “No, but that won’t stop us from trying.”

///

After they shower and get resettled in bed, Derek asks what time it is in Sweden. 

Ryan shrugs, unsure. A twinge of hurt is felt in his chest as he connects the dots of _why_ Derek is asking.

“I never remember the time difference,” Ryan says quietly. 

“I’ll text Marc. No big,” Derek settles back against the pillows after grabbing his phone, sending off a quick text to Marc.

_[ **txt:** hey, two percent. are you with hank right now?]_

_[ **txt, from MARC-Y MARC:** aren’t i always, bald eagle? why? what’s up?]_

_[ **txt:** true. it’s a shock you aren’t conjoined at the hip yet.]  
[ **txt:** can we facetime or is it a bad time?]_

_[ **txt, from MARC-Y MARC:** we’re good. now is perfect. hit us up.]_

Derek gets ready to start the call when Ryan touches his elbow.

“Der, hold on.”

Ryan’s texting someone and doesn’t say another word until his phone buzzes with a response. Derek waits.

“Antti,” Ryan starts in way of an explanation. “He wants to tell Hank himself.”

Derek’s throat tightens for a moment. He breathes through it as best he can.

“Yeah, okay.”

Ryan gives a small nod and puts his phone away, quickly leaning in to settle against Derek’s side; a comforting, warm presence for this call.

Derek presses the call button and in no time at all, Marc answers. All they see at first is a blinding smile and a flash of ginger hair littered with flowers. Hank is laughing at something, all bright and happy. Marc is fixing the flowers in Hank’s hair with one hand while trying to keep the camera in focus on them.

Derek’s stomach drops and he suddenly wishes he hadn’t called. They look so happy. _Hank_ looks so happy. Derek only ever wants Hank to be happy and now he’s going to bring him down and how is that fair?

Hank quickly senses something is wrong; this isn't how their calls usually start off. There isn’t ever silence on Derek’s end. There’s bad jokes and laughter and invasive but well-meant questions about how often Marc is giving it to Hank.

It’s never silence. Silence is damning from Derek. Hank’s smile starts to fade. He takes the phone from Marc’s hands, expression and tone quickly turning completely serious.

“Derek, what’s going on? What happened?”

Hank sounds so worried. Derek hates that he’s done that; that he’s taken Hank’s smile away. He doesn’t answer for too long a beat and Hank’s face falls even more.

“Derek, are you _okay_?”

Derek shakes his head, then nods. He says, “Yeah, I’m okay.” Then very quickly, “No, I’m not.”

Marc’s face appears on the screen, looking just as worried and upset. The flowers in his hair don’t seem as bright now. It's just the lighting, Derek thinks. There’s no way the happiness of a person can affect the color of flowers.

“Der, what is it?”

Marc has that worried-older-brother tone in his voice and all Derek wants to do is run. This is his _family_. How does he tell them that he’s leaving them?

He has to, though. He has to tell them. It’ll be worse not coming from him. He has to say the words, has to break the happy bubble of their reality. They can’t turn back once it pops.

“I got traded.”

The words finally come, sounding wrong on his lips. He lets that bombshell land, lets it grow in their mind.

Hank breaks the silence first to ask, “Where?”

“Arizona.”

It feels even heavier to drop that truth this time.

A lot of people misjudge Hank constantly and how he displays his emotions, call him stoic and poised at times, but Derek knows better. Hank is always an open book, easy to read and understand once you learn his language. Derek always knows how Hank is feeling from just a glance or a word. Maybe that’s why it hurts so bad when he can’t read Hank’s expression. Hank’s face is an empty canvas, betraying nothing of what he might be feeling with this news that Derek is leaving, that Derek will be wearing red and hearing howls instead of donning blue and hearing _hey hey hey_ ringing in his ears.

“It’s done? It’s official?”

Hank’s tone doesn't betray anything either and that makes Derek want to cry. He doesn’t know how to ease this, how to fix anything that may now be shattered between himself and Hank if he doesn't know how Hank /feels/.

“Yeah,” Ryan answers for him. He’s been quiet too long after Hank’s question. “It’s done.”

Hank swallows hard. They can hear it over the video. Marc doesn't seem to know where to look; at Hank or at Derek, but wherever he directs his gaze, there’s pain in it.

Derek tries to speak, but he doesn’t know what words to use. This shouldn't feel harder than the conversation with Ryan but it does.

Finally, without realizing what he’s saying, Derek quietly asks, “Can I talk to Hank alone? Please?”

Ryan immediately nods, gives Derek’s thigh a squeeze, kisses his cheek and murmurs, “I’ll be in the living room if you need me.”

Marc hesitates, a bit more reluctant to leave Hank alone in this emotional moment; it’s understandable, Derek doesn’t feel any offense by it. Marc has been by Hank’s side for so many major moments in both their lives and Hank’s emotions can run hot and strong. Sometimes he needs the cooler balance of Marc by his side. 

Marc relinquishes after a minute and repeats a similar sentiment to Hank, “I’ll be right outside if you need me.” 

He kisses Hank before he goes, slow and with an obvious purpose; branding himself - his taste - on Hank’s lips, pushing himself into Hank’s soul for a solid reminder of _you’re not alone, I have you_ in case Hank needs it.

Derek doesn’t mind the display; he’s never minded witnessing these moments between Hank and Marc. It always feels more like an honor than anything to see two souls entwined in each other so deeply, so clearly meant to be wrapped up together.

Marc leaves with a final gentle stroke of his knuckles over Hank’s cheek. The flowers in his hair keep seeming to lose their brightness each minute. Derek is almost grateful when he can’t see them anymore.

Once alone, Derek still doesn’t know what to say. He asked for this, for it to be just them, yet he still doesn’t know what to say to Hank.

He wants to say _I’m sorry_ and _I love you_ but the words get stuck in his throat. He coughs, tries to clear the blockage of words, but the tightness in his throat only grows. Hank gives him a small, sad smile; the first real expression of emotion and Derek wants to cry in relief and grief.

Hank speaks first, quietly says, “I didn’t think it would happen like this.”

Derek wants to ask _What do you mean?_ but Hank keeps talking, “First Dan, now you. I didn’t think our little family would break up like this.”

Derek laughs, more pained that anything. He wants to say _wait until your next phone call_ but he can’t. Antti wants to break the news himself and Derek can’t betray that trust.

“We’ll just have multiple Christmases and Thanksgivings now, that’s all.”

It’s a weak joke, one that barely begins to cover what is going to be different now.

It’s always been about more than spending just holidays together, more than playing the game together. It’s about a found family; it’s about being a wide-eyed rookie and becoming part of a family, a part of what would become the core of a team. The collective beating heart. It’s about late nights talking, sharing dreams and aspirations. It’s buying drinks and Derek nervously admitting, _I think I have a crush on someone_ , and Hank quietly confessing in reply, _I’m in love with someone_ , and Derek smiling as they count to three and say the name of the object of their affections; _Ryan/Marc. I knew it/I called it._

It’s always been about support and being there for highs and lows. It’s always been about Derek genuinely energetic and wanting to _learn Swedish_ ; Hank teaching him how to say _I love you_ and Derek happily proclaiming it to Hank after wins and during practice and at the end of phone calls over the summer. It’s the trust, the love, that has built up over the years; the strength of the bond, the force and power of that strength keeping them together, holding that core. Even through injuries - Hank, a mess over Marc’s eye, Ryan and Derek by his side. Through highs and lows - being so close to that cup together and feeling it ripped away; the misery that had consumed them but Derek took their hands and raised them up from it.

Hank has been a constant in Derek’s life for so long. Beyond important. They talk about the core of the team in the media, but never seem to realize how deep that bond truly goes. How strong it is. How painful it feels to have it breaking like this. The core - the _family_ \- is larger than outsiders think. It’s the whole team. Hank’s heart is so open to them all while Derek’s heart overflows and floods the room with the love he has to share.

Suddenly all Derek wants to do is break down and _sob_. He wants to cry and be surrounded, be wrapped up in the embraces of Ryan and Hank and Marc. He wants that comfort.

“Come to Sweden,” Hank says seemingly out of nowhere. Derek realizes then that he’s been too quiet. It must be clear what he was thinking from his expression. Hank can read him easily, too; that’s always been a blessing and a curse.

“You and Ryan. Come here. Spend a few days with us,” and almost as if Hank is scared that somehow Derek would say no, he quietly adds a soft, “ _please?_ ”

Derek hastily wipes at his eyes and nods, laughs a little, “I don’t have any hair to put flowers in, though.”

“That’s okay,” Hank says, lips quirking at the corners. “We’ll make it work. We’ll make all of it work.”

///

Sweden is beautiful, as it always is. Derek thinks he’ll never tire of visiting.

Hank takes them around, shows them places that he loved as a kid. He tells stories about himself and Joel as they all collect flowers and alternate whose hand is being held by whose. It’s fun. It’s beautiful. It’s what they all need.

Antti shows up on the third day and Hank hugs him so tight, knuckles white where they are clutching the back of Antti’s shirt. The hug lasts longer than anyone dares to count and when they finally break apart, they both have wet spots on their shirts. No one says a word as Antti clings to Hank’s hand all day.

They stay in Hank’s lakehouse for a week. 

The sunsets feel calming, the lake is soothing. The alcohol they share warms their bodies, the summer fireworks entrance them. Things seem to settle. The world realigns a bit. It’s still not right, but it feels better.

“Don’t go easy on me when I go to take that shot, okay? Don’t let your head cloud you,” Derek says on the last night before his and Ryan’s flight back home. He’s laughing and smiling and it’s a lot less pained and a lot more real now.

“In your dreams. I’m going to shut your ass out. Mark my words,” Hank replies with a bright, crooked grin.

Derek laughs, warm and bright. Ryan beams next to him and nudges his hip.

Maybe it really will all be okay in the end.

**Author's Note:**

> i may write a follow-up chapter to this, depending on how things go. we'll see. let me know what y'all think, thank you!! ;;


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